“Fuck,” he mutters, starting to pull away. “Sorry, I?—”
I lean back into him instead, grinding my ass against his erection in a movement that’s pure instinct and terrible judgment. His sharp intake of breath tells me exactly how much he appreciates the contact.
“Lithia, we shouldn’t?—”
“I know,” I agree, but I don’t stop moving against him. His free hand slides down to grip my hip, holding me still even as his body betrays how much he wants me to continue.
“Don’t start what you won’t finish.”
“Right,” I breathe, but I turn in his arms instead of stepping away. Now we’re face to face, his hands on my waist, his erection pressing against my belly through our clothes.
For a heartbeat, we just stare at each other, balanced on the knife’s edge between distance and desire. Then his control snaps.
“Fuck it.”
He kisses me with desperate hunger, backing me toward the weapons rack until I’m pinned between cold metal and his burning body. I respond with equal ferocity, cracking apart under the weight of need.
His hands slide into my hair, angling my head to deepen the kiss while I claw at the buckles of his armor. I need to feel his skin, need to touch him without barriers between us.
“Fuck, you taste good,” he growls against my mouth, his teeth scraping my lower lip. “I fucking hate when my mouth isn’t on you.”
I manage to get his vest undone, pushing it off his shoulders where it hits the floor with a heavy thud. My hands map the planes of his chest, relearning every scar and line of muscle while he tugs at my shirt, pulling it up and tossing it away.
His mouth follows the path of his hands, trailing fire down my throat to the curve of my breast.
“Kier,” I gasp, my head falling back against the weapons rack as he takes my nipple into his mouth through the thin fabric of my bra.
The sensation shoots straight to my core, making me arch against him with a soft cry. His responding growl vibrates against my breast as he sucks harder, his hands sliding down to grip my ass and lift me against him.
I wrap my legs around his waist instinctively, bringing our centers into perfect alignment. Even through our remaining clothes, the friction is incredible—hot and desperate and exactly what I’ve been craving.
“We need to stop,” I pant even as I rock against him, chasing the pleasure building between us.
“Yeah,” he agrees, his mouth moving to my other breast. “We definitely need to stop.”
But his hands are sliding under my sports bra, palmingmy bare breasts while I grind against the hard length of his cock. Nothing about this feels like stopping.
“We’ll stop,” he says, grinding against me. “Just watch me stop.”
I bite his shoulder, growling as he sucks my breast into his mouth.
I’m reaching for the ties of his pants when the sound of approaching footsteps freezes us both.
“Shit,” I breathe, scrambling to untangle myself from him and grab my discarded shirt.
Kier steps back, running a hand through his disheveled hair as he tries to control his breathing. His erection is still prominently visible through his pants, and his eyes are dark with frustrated desire.
“Lithia?” Levi’s voice calls from the corridor. “Are you in here?”
Of course it’s him.
“Just finishing up,” I call back, pulling my shirt over my head with hands that shake slightly. “Be right out.”
Kier has managed to retrieve his armor, though he’s making no attempt to put it back on.
Levi appears in the doorway, his yellow eyes immediately taking in the scene—my mussed hair, Kier’s shirtless state, the tension crackling between us.
“I was looking for you,” he says, his voice carefully controlled. “There are some last-minute details about tomorrow that need your attention.”
